


In the Aftermath

by yoificprompts (notyourcupofcoffee)



Series: Tumblr Prompt Requests [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Chicago (City), Concussions, Crimes & Criminals, Drug Dealing, Drug trafficking, Head Injury, Hospitalization, Hospitals, Injury, Loving Marriage, M/M, Mafia Victor Nikiforov, Major Character Injury, Non-Graphic Violence, Organized Crime, Physical Disability, Post-Concussion Syndrome, References to Drugs, Russian Mafia, Tumblr Prompt, yuuri katsuki made too many friends involved in organized crime
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-02
Updated: 2017-12-02
Packaged: 2019-02-09 09:14:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12884736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notyourcupofcoffee/pseuds/yoificprompts
Summary: For @sassy-jellyfish on tumblr who requested:“Could you possibly write a mafia au where Viktor is the Phakan of the Russian Mafia and Yuuri is his husband. One night a drug trade goes wrong and Yuuri gets injured (severely please) and victor plus the gang (phichit, yuri, otabek, jj, chris, isabelle, yakov, and mari) all have to take turns caring for him.”





	In the Aftermath

**Author's Note:**

> WARNINGS: the violence in this is not explicit, but Yūri is severely injured and I did not take that lightly. He will have chronic pain issues and disabilities from his injuries. This focuses mostly on his recovery with a bit of whimsy since it’s fiction, but gang/mafia activity is no joke.
> 
> I do not condone criminal activity at all. I chose the Latin Kings for no other reason than to have the setting be in Chicago. This is purely a work of fiction. Also, there’s one part that makes it seem like Yūri has as foot fetish but do note that’s not the intention of the scene. If you want to read it that way, more power to you.
> 
> Also: I haven't gone through and edited it for AO3 just yet, so this is just the tumblr version copy and pasted. 
> 
> Please suspend your disbelief if I got something wrong in regards to injury. I have a fear of gore so I did not look anything up. Feel free to mention things that can be changed though and I'll get to it when I finally go back to edit.
> 
> If this is your cup of tea, please enjoy!

Yūri should have never been there.

As they rush through the emergency room, Yūri on a stretcher – covered in his own blood and a nurse desperately trying to keep enough pressure on the bullet wounds in his leg, Victor berates himself. He had one job and he blew it…

And Yūri was the one paying the price for his carelessness.

It was a simple job – a drug deal by the docks. The best quality cocaine one can come across – worth millions of U.S. dollars because the Phakan of Russia settled for nothing less. He had some high end buyers looking for a steady supply, so when Georgi mentioned that his girlfriend had connections with the Latin Kings and that she could help them break a good deal it seemed too good to be true.

It was.

Georgi and Anja had a nasty breakup in the middle of the deal – and Georgi failed to mention certain details that put them at risk. He admitted that they were going through a rough patch, but claimed that it would all work out. Nothing about the stalking and the consequent restraining order because Georgi wouldn’t get a clue and leave Anja and her new Latin King boyfriend alone.

So when they reached the designated meeting spot in Chicago, Anja’s new man was not happy to see Georgi to say the least. The decision to turn the drug deal into a hit was swift and they were massively unprepared. They had their weapons, yes, but the Latin Kings were notoriously violent and they had more manpower being on their home turf. Victor considered they were lucky to have made it out alive…

But they had found Yūri.

Yūri, who was waiting in Victor’s car, was cornered. They were too busy taking cover and shooting back that they didn’t notice one of the Latin Kings approach the car – having seen a hostage opportunity. The words still echoed in his head.

“Give us Georgi or this one dies.”

The Bratva would never do that to one of their own, but before a decision could be made Yūri acted. It was a brilliant move – probably taught to him by his sister – but once Yūri put a bullet between his captor’s eyes, no one was safe. It was no longer a fight to protect one of their own. The Latin Kings were on them and it was each man for himself.

He still didn’t know the full extent of what Yūri went through. The cops showed up, led by Yūri’s sister herself, and the Latin Kings ran. When they found Yūri, he was unconscious and in critical condition. He didn’t even get to see the state his husband was in until the ambulance arrived because officer Mari Katsuki decked him once he was in sight.

He was going to have a black eye within the next few hours.

He had to stop once they pushed Yūri into the operating room. His husband needed immediate surgery as they had to stop the bleeding from his femoral artery. Then they had to run all the necessary tests to figure out just how bad his condition was…

Victor didn’t know what to do, so he fell to his knees and wept.

-

“He’s lucky to be alive.”

Yūri grimaced at his sister’s harsh words, but knew that nothing he said would calm the storm brewing under her skin.

It had been a week since the incident and he was only just coherent enough to be able to hold a conversation. Between his multiple surgeries and just how much morphine they pumped into him and the concussion, he was lucky to not be in a coma. The doctors had considered inducing one while his body healed, but he had woken up and further CAT scans proved it to be unnecessary.

His concussion had healed after the first 36 hours as it was the least severe of his injuries, but God he still had a killer headache when the meds wore off.

“It wasn’t his fault, Mari. I was the one who acted impulsively,” he murmured, wanting to defend his husband despite the futility of it. Mari scoffed.

“Part of his deal with CPD was that he would not involve you in his criminal activity,” she bit back without hesitation. “We left him and his stupid gang alone because they mostly did their shit overseas and because I couldn’t bear to put the man my brother fell in love with six feet underground. I wanted him dead the minute you brought him home but held back because you were engaged.”

Mari let out a drawn out sigh as she dug for her cigarettes. She pushed the left window pane aside and sat on the ledge, lighting the end of the cigarette in between her lips.

“I’m sorry to have caused so much trouble.”

She did a double take at that.

“Yūri…” Another sigh – this time a trail of smoke fell from her lips. “What you did was reckless, yes. You don’t have the experience in dealing with hardened criminals like the Bratva or I do.” She took a deep drag of her cigarette, finishing it off and flicking it out the window. She moved from her perch to the chair at Yūri’s bedside, taking a hold of Yūri’s undamaged hand as she sat down. “I blame him because you weren’t supposed to be there and he knows it. I’m not blind to his guilt. The Phakan isn’t an easy man to break, Yūri.”

Tears stung at his eyes at the mention of his husband. He knew how much Victor blamed himself and it ate at him every time he saw it. Victor was usually the one by his side – massaging his skin to avoid bed sores, changing out his bedpan, helping the nurse’s clean up the mess from the times he had missed the bedpan, and entertaining him through the boredom of constant bed rest that he’d be confined to for the next few months.

“We were just excited to leave for our honeymoon, Mari. I was the one who suggested it.”

“Yeah but that doesn’t mean he should have allowed it. If you think what I have to say about that husband of yours is harsh, you should’ve heard what I had to say to Yakov-“

Yūri gasped. “You didn’t-”

“I did and I’d do it again,” Mari finished. The silence stretched and Yūri’s mind worried over the implications of his sister’s actions. “Thankfully, Yakov is a respectable man and despite the threats I threw at him he agreed to pay your deductibles.”

Yūri wished he could cover his face but Mari had a good grip on his uninjured hand. “I don’t want his money-“

“His money is the least he could give you after giving in to your and your husband’s stupid idea.” Yūri huffed, getting tired of the way his sister kept cutting him off.

“Just…tell me how bad it is.” He tightened his hold around Mari’s hand. His doctor was in the middle of an outpatient surgery so it would be a while before he would be back, but Yūri needed to know what to expect in his road to recovery now that he could focus.

“Well, the obvious would be the concussion, your badly broken leg, your disfigured left hand, cracked ribs, broken clavicle, dislocated shoulder…” she began and Yūri winced at her tone.

She let out another sigh. “Your right leg is the worst of it. You took two bullets, one imbedded in between the femoral head and acetabulum and the other closer to your knee. You’re going to have problems in both joints for the rest of your life due to damaged cartilage and torn ligaments. You’ll be getting your hip replaced once you heal. They’re still debating on the knee replacement. You have screws keeping your leg together at the moment and they’re hoping it’ll heal right as it is because purposely breaking your leg to reset it will be a painful ordeal for you. The nerve damage alone is going to give you chronic pain, but you’ll also have severe bursitis in your shoulder and what you have left of your hip. Because of all this, you’ll need to learn how to walk again with physical therapy once it’s all said and done. Whether you’re going to be dependent on mobility aids or not depends on how that goes.”

Yūri nodded, expecting as much upon seeing his full leg cast that was propped up in some weird apparatus. He was tilted to favor his left side, likely due to the damage all along his right.

“Your left hand is completely destroyed. It’ll heal, but you’ll likely have difficulty doing much of anything with it. They’ll also have you in physical therapy for that to see what your limitations are going to be going forward. Your right shoulder dislocated when you fell – but the worst part of it was that it tore your rotator cuff. That’ll heal fine, but you’ll be limited to how much weight you can carry because you’ll be at risk of tearing it again if you strain it.”

Mari paused, glaring at the wall in such a way that Yūri recognized it as her habit to avoid crying. He squeezed her hand again in reassurance, even though he was the injured and disabled one.

“Now…tell me how this happened to you, Yūri.”

He took a moment to collect his thoughts. The morphine and the concussion made everything a bit blurry, but after some time he was able to recall the incident. “I was suddenly taken out of the car. I had a gun against my head, and I remember how terrified Victor looked as the guy used me for ransom. I managed to get out of his hold with that trick you showed me. I broke his arm, then I took his gun away and shot him. I wasn’t aiming for his head, but…” He shivered at the memory, unable to fight the anxiety and unease of having killed someone. “I remember not being able to move or react. There was so much blood and gray matter and-”

He was cut off by Mari putting a finger against his lips. Tears were streaming down his face as he trembled, desperately trying to keep his breathing under control.

“I ran shortly after the gunshots started back up. I was so scared and everything was going wrong… Next thing I knew, I was falling to the ground. I dropped the pistol, and I scrambled for it because I needed something to protect myself with, but some guy showed up and stepped on my hand. I think he may have been wearing steel-toed boots? I don’t know… He kicked me in the side first to turn me on to my back, then he kicked my head…”

He stopped, needing another moment to collect himself. “I blacked out after that.”

Mari reached over, carefully bypassing the sling, and held him in a half hug as they sat in silence.

-

This was awkward.

He wanted to crawl in a ditch a die but he couldn’t even cover himself much less get out of bed. Victor was cleaning the mess with a nonchalant expression as if there was nothing gross about it while a couple of nurses kept his broken body steady and away.

“Looks like we’ll need to keep the bedpan under you at all times,” one of the nurse’s commented and Yūri groaned in a mixture of embarrassment and frustration. He hated having the bedpan under him because it only made him more uncomfortable than he already was – so he had requested having it removed until it was needed.

Well, turns out, even he doesn’t know when it’s needed. Great.

“Incontinence is common with brain injuries, so there’s nothing to worry about,” another nurse piped up, rubbing his good arm in what was supposed to be a comforting gesture. “I went through it after giving birth to my son. It happens.”

Yeah well…it was still embarrassing.

“Okay, I have him cleaned up so get ready to lift so the sheets can be removed,” Victor announced and Yūri winced at the sudden pressure against his ribs. Cracked ribs hurt like a bitch and he still had trouble breathing without intense pain.

He was carefully lifted and the other nurses worked fast to help Victor get the bed cleaned and the sheets replaced. He would probably still be moved to another bed later on in the day just in case, but they couldn’t just leave him in his own filth while a new one was prepared. Yūri unclenched his teeth and sighed in relief once he was lying back against the pillows, still slightly tilted to favor his left side.

“Thank you for your help, Mr. Nikiforov,” his charge nurse, Rebecca, said as she started rubbing down on Yūri’s good leg to help with his circulation. Yūri snorted at the formal title for his husband.

Victor, after washing his hands very thoroughly and sanitizing, started massaging his back when he returned. Yūri sighed in contentment, loving the way it felt to have his aches eased away by his husband. Victor was always gentle, mindful of his aching ribs and shoulder. As frustrating as it was to be constantly looked after, he still preferred his husband’s hands over the nurse’s.

“Please, call me Victor,” was Victor’s reply, his hands moving down to Yūri’s lower back. “It’s the least I could do for my husband.”

Yūri’s cheeks turned red and his heart monitor sped up a bit, wanting nothing more than to hold Victor in his arms or be held by him in that moment. He was still getting used to hearing the words out loud. The transition from boyfriend to lover to fiancé to husband still made him giddy with excitement even as severely injured as he was.

“Well, Victor, I’ll leave you two alone since you seem to have it down. Give me a call if he needs more pain medicine.” Rebecca gave them a small smile and wave as she left the room. Victor continued the massage, moving down to Yūri’s feet.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, putting just the right amount of pressure into Yūri’s instep that made him moan. Victor was an expert at foot massages.

Yūri couldn’t meet his eyes, though. His mind was still reeling from the earlier incident. “Mortified, but I’m happy you’re here.”

Victor smiled, gentle…calming, like Yūri was the most precious thing in the world.

Once the massage ended, Yūri felt a tad bit better. His muscles were still sore from lying in bed for a whole week and certain areas were just throbbing with an intense ache he couldn’t shake off. Victor seemed to notice his discomfort, so he quickly called the nurse for another dose of morphine. He wasn’t happy about it – wanting to stay awake to have more time with Victor.

As Rebecca left the room once more, Victor pulled up the chair at his bedside and took a hold of his good hand and interlaced their fingers with care. The sling was in the way, but the contact was soothing.

Yūri took in a deep breath through his nose – Victor’s floral cologne a comforting smell after the incident and the constant stench of antiseptic and his own body odor. “I’m sorry you had to see that, Vitya.”

Victor rubbed soothing circles with his thumb, leaning forward to drop a kiss against Yūri’s temple. “A liquid diet and brain damage will do that to you. I mean it when I say it’s not a problem, Yūri. I will always take care of you,” he whispered, dropping another kiss to Yūri’s cheek. “It kills me to see you like this and it’s only the beginning. But at the same time, I’m just so relieved that you’re alive and that you’ll be okay.” His voice shook a bit, and Yūri couldn’t help but reach out with his heavily bandaged hand. He couldn’t feel anything, but he rested it against Victor’s cheek to collect the single tear that fell.

He met Victor halfway for the kiss against his lips before he was overtaken by sleep.

-

No one could stop Phichit from barreling his way through the hospital to get to Yūri.

For a good while, only relatives were able to see him because of his unstable condition. It was partially to keep his exposure to the outside world minimal, but mostly to keep himself from being disoriented and overwhelmed by the mass of people wanting to check in on him. Although the brain damage wasn’t severe, it was still there so he was constantly battling headaches, dizziness, and nausea.

Phichit, being the overzealous best friend that he was, lied and claimed that they were cousins in order to see him.

(The nurses were not happy about it when the truth came out, but by then the family only restriction had been lifted.)

Yūri cried the minute his best friend came in. Tears and snot already dripping down Phichit’s chin as he sat in the chair.

“You’re being dramatic,” Yūri laughed, instantly regretting it due to the twinge in his ribs at the motion. “I’m not on my deathbed you know, and I’ll heal just fine despite the few disabilities I’ll have.”

Phichit seemed affronted. “There you go again – minimizing what you’re going through so that we don’t worry about you!”

Yūri scoffed. “I’m not minimizing it. I just accepted it. I figured I’m lucky to be alive - what’s a bit a chronic pain and limited mobility compared to death?”

“Look, I’m glad you’re alive too but trust me when I say chronic pain is no joke. And knowing you and your stubborn ass, you’re in for a lot of frustration when you realize you can’t even pick up your dog anymore.” Phichit raised an eyebrow at him as if daring him to deny it, but Yūri knew he was right. He was already frustrated with being stuck in bed and that was going to continue for at least another month until his leg is fixed.

Phichit took a deep breath. “I’ve heard good things about hip replacements. Most people are able to walk around days after surgery, but you’ll need that replaced every twenty years or so. Your left hand, judging from what I’ve overheard from your sister, will be mostly useless but thankfully you’re right handed so it shouldn’t be too big of a deal for you. The worst will actually be your shoulder. My mom tore her rotator cuff saving toddler me from jumping off our balcony, and when she didn’t listen to the doctor she tore it again a year later,” Phichit ranted, wiping the worst of his snot and tear stained face with nearby tissues. “So please, Yūri, don’t be stubborn with this. If you need help, ask. It’s better than getting hurt again or putting yourself through more pain just because you don’t want to burden us.”

Yūri stayed silent. He hated the lecture, but with his track record he knew Phichit meant well. Once when they were in college, Yūri refused to admit that he was in pain because he didn’t want to miss class or ice skating practice. It wasn’t addressed until Phichit dragged him to the university health center…only to find out he had appendicitis that was ready to burst. Phichit never let him live it down.

“Fine,” he sighed, extending his pinky finger of his good hand out enough for Phichit to grab a hold of it with his own.

With the agreement settled, they ended up conversing about more of Yūri’s embarrassing and stubborn habits from their college days. Rebecca came in during a particularly raunchy story Phichit was teasing him with about that one college party that should never be mentioned in public. She laughed and checked him over, letting out a short gasp when she exposed his left hip.

“We got a bed sore,” she explained, carefully turning him so that he was flat on his back. He winced at the pressure on his right side, but compared to earlier in the month it was more tolerable. “How does this feel?”

He told her it was tolerable, and she began to clean and dress the sore. She made a note in his file that the slight lean they had been keeping him in was no longer advised – and since the pain seemed to be lessening, he was now to have his position adjusted every so often to avoid constant pressure on a single area. He could already feel the sting in his ribs and shoulder just from talking about it.

When Rebecca left, Yūri hated the uncomfortable silence that hung between them.

“Yūri…”

He groaned, but he remembered his promise. “I’m getting sore around my ankles and heels. Can you…?” He didn’t want to finish the question. Phichit seemed to understand and stood up and move to the end of the bed. He took Yūri’s feet, inspecting them, before massaging them between his hands.

“No sores here, but the skin is irritated a bit,” he explained, carefully settling Yūri’s feet back on the bed. “I have some moisturizing lotion in my bag that can help ease the friction a bit.”

And just like that, the silence became comfortable again.

-

By the start of the third month, the rods were removed from his leg.

They kept the smaller screws where the second bullet hit above his knee, but the rods were to be removed for his hip replacement surgery. A good chunk of his femoral head had been lost from the shockwave and there was no hope in saving the cartilage.

As torturous as the pain was, he was glad to finally be out of the apparatus that kept his leg up.

Post surgery, he was able to lie normally again much to his relief. He felt so much better already. The worst of the brain damage had finally healed as well so he no longer needed the bedpan and catheter. He still required assistance to the bathroom due to the loss of motor function in his right leg, but having at least a little bit of independence felt amazing.

There were bad days. Sometimes the pain left him screaming now that they were weaning him off the morphine. No amount of anti-inflammatory medications seemed to reduce the bursitis in his shoulder enough to make movement less painful. He couldn’t feel his left hand at all, but he learned he could still move it if he really focused. His shoulder rarely caused him grief when the bursitis wasn’t acting up, but he definitely had trouble supporting his weight with it or lifting anything over 15 pounds. The pain in his ribs was but a distant memory now, but his knee was definitely the worst.

The shockwaves of the bullet weren’t as close to his knee as they were to his hip, but they were close enough. The first time he tried to stand without help, his knee protested violently before the muscles gave out entirely. He got a stern lecture from Rebecca over it.

He was discharged at the end of the month, but he was given home health care while he worked his way through physical therapy. The nurse was a guy dubbed Q – his full name hard to pronounce by English speakers and when Yūri first heard it he understood why. Q only showed up when Victor wasn’t able to care for him, which wasn’t that often as Victor refused to leave his side most days.

Being back home, in his own bed, with Makkachin and Vicchan to keep him company, and Victor beside him, was the greatest joy he felt in the past few months.

He was a bit taken aback when one day he was greeted with Yuri, Otabek, JJ, Isabella, Chris, Georgi, Milla, and Yakov at their door. Victor welcomed them in with a heart shaped smile, only taking a moment to help Yūri out of bed and into his wheelchair before heading to the kitchen to get everyone something to drink and prepare some snacks.

“It’s great to see you all, but what ‘s going on?” Yūri couldn’t help but ask once all the hugs and customary greetings were over. They settled themselves in the living room with their drinks. Otabek, Yuri, and Milla sat at the three barstools near the kitchen, Chris sat in the chaise lounge, JJ and Isabella cozied themselves up on the love seat – leaving Yakov and Georgi to share the sectional with Victor next to the space his wheelchair occupied.

“We didn’t get to see you in the hospital, so we figured once our business was done we’d throw you a small welcome home party!” Chris spoke up, handing him a paper bag. He blushed, opening the gift to find a bunch of Swiss chocolate. “Now that you’re able to eat solid foods again, I figured you deserved a treat. Chocolate is also said to help with pain, so why not have the best in the world?” he finished with a wink and Yūri laughed. He couldn’t stop himself from reaching in and unwrapping a piece to enjoy now.

“We’re here because Leo wasn’t able to come in person,” JJ started, and Yūri tensed up. Leo was a friend from college, but he was also a notorious Latin King and Yūri wasn’t sure where his loyalty leaned stronger. “He sends his best wishes. His men were punished for involving you, much to their confusion, but he’s been trying to end the unnecessary violence towards innocents for a while now so I guess it’s to be expected.”

“Anja and her boyfriend got the worst of it though,” Isabella pointed out, idly flicking dirt out from underneath one of her acrylic nails. “It’s unprofessional to bring personal matters into a business deal. The incident brought too much public attention to them, which makes it harder to work around law enforcement and politicians. You can’t have money and power underground if there’s a spotlight on you.”

Isabella would know. Her family dominates the world of political exploitation – bribes, blackmail, extortion, you name it. They have the entire world in the palm of their hands and the masses were none the wiser. Yūri befriended her by accident (in fact, all of his relationships with notorious gang and crime leaders were by accident and he’s wondered too many times how he had attracted that particular crowd) and ever since, he’s had her family’s protection. Victor claims that the Bratva would have never gotten on good terms with them without him.

“Anja…” All eyes turned to Georgi, who had his head down in shame. “I never got to apologize to you, Yūri. It was my fault that the deal turned sour. If I had been honest to myself that Anja had moved on, I wouldn’t have caused so much trouble.”

“No, Georgi – it’s my fault,“ Victor interjected. The deal went sour because of you, yes, but I should have been patient and had Yūri wait at the hotel or even the airport instead of bringing him with us.”

Yūri glared at him.

“Don’t you dare try to carry the blame. It was my idea to come along-”

They were silenced by Yuri banging his fist on the counter. “All three of you are idiots, how about that?!” he yelled, leaving a deafening silence in his wake. “Georgi was wearing rose tinted glasses, you and the old man were too wrapped up in your damn honeymoon plans, Yakov allowed it, and I wasn’t where I was supposed to be - so you got hurt. End of story. Everyone is sorry, now let’s move on already.”

Yuri huffed indignantly and turned away from them. It was the closest thing to an admittance of his own guilt and an apology that it left Yūri with tears stinging at his eyes.

Yakov sighed next to him. “Yura is right. It’s useless to argue over who’s at fault when we all contributed to it in one way or another,” he stated calmly. He turned to Yūri, making eye contact. “I won’t lie, I didn’t like you at first. I saw you as a distraction to Vitya but in reality I was ignoring the truth. Vitya, although good at it, wasn’t cut out for this life – he was forced to because he was raised into it.

“I ignored the one request he ever asked of me because I disregarded it as nothing but a passing fancy. I named him the Phakan, and the light he used to have slowly died with every passing day…until he met you.”

Yūri’s breath hitched.

“I should have known then, but I didn’t want to lose my successor. Instead, I compromised. We made a deal with your sister – kept you away from the business and kept your relationship under wraps to avoid having a target placed on your back. Vitya would remain the Phakan and you would be able to have a happy life together.

“But now everyone knows. Your sister caused a stir within CPD and Vitya made a scene in the ER.

“The reason I am here is because I’m formally withdrawing Vitya from his duties so he can spend his time with you. You’ll need the help and the added protection. I’ll be coming out of retirement until I can find a suitable replacement. Consider this a belated wedding gift,” Yakov finished, removing his hat and placing it against his chest. He stood, took a short bow, then turned to leave. The others took their leave with him – their business concluded.

The tears were falling down Yūri’s face when Yuri gave him a quick hug and a disgruntled “get better” before taking off. Chris said he’d be by later in the week to help them re-plan the honeymoon trip they had to cancel. But Yūri was too focused on Yakov’s speech.

Victor was no longer the Phakan, no longer obligated to run the Bratva’s illicit business deals. Victor himself seemed overjoyed as he ran into Yūri’s arms, tears streaming down his face now that they were alone. It was a thing they shared in private – Victor admitting that while he loved his family he felt as if there was a chain around his neck. He couldn’t be his true self because he needed to be the fearless, ruthless leader of Russia’s largest mafia and he wanted nothing more than to be just Victor Katsuki-Nikiforov.

And now he was.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me @yoificprompts on tumblr for more~
> 
> You can also follow me @lilhoneysuckle4 if you just want fandom content


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